21-year-old Florence Ivelle struggles through college to claim freedom but gets trapped into a deal with her brother, Alastor, leaving her at his mercy until she graduates. She doesn't expect to be kidnapped into breaking it.
Three masked men take h...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I wasn't sure how long I had been in that room with the cot as my sole companion. I pretended I had my doll with me, her porcelain skin cool and gentle on my clammy skin, but I ended up curling into a ball on the floor when pretending didn't work. She wasn't there with me, and I was alone, just as I had been when my mother died and before I'd met Toska, but neither of them was with me, and no amount of pretending could change that.
I was glad Toska wasn't here and instead safe at college, even if she detested it so much. She was safe and happy, and that was enough to console me, causing my next shuddering breath to calm into something steadier.
When we first met, she was moving into my college dorm after my last roommate decided that my late-night studying hours weren't for them. I'd just survived another weekend with Alastor and Killian, and I was exhausted, stumbling through the door and attempting not to fall.
When I tripped over her box and knocked over her lamp, causing it to shatter on the floor, I braced myself from a harsh reprieve, perhaps even a slap, but instead, she showed me something I hadn't seen since my mother died; kindness.
She laughed at the mess as my mother had laughed when I made a mess of pancake batter or toys, and my heart lurched at the melodic sound. It was the first time in a long time that someone wasn't cruel to me—the only treatment Alastor had told me I deserved.
"I hated that lamp," she'd told me, her eyes dancing with mirth. I had wondered how someone could be so happy when something was broken inches from them. How had it not wanted to make her fall into pieces beside it? "Thank you for your service—?"
And when I'd told her my name, she'd repeated it in almost a chirp, like my name was worth saying.
Then she had beamed at me and said, "We're off to a great start. I'm friends with anyone who breaks things I hate."
After what seemed like an eternity without, I'd felt myself going through the motions of a smile. By the time I'd helped her unpack and settle in, I was laughing.
I'd never known kindness like Toska's. Hers was different from my mother's. My mother carried me in her womb for nine months—she had time to love me and very little choice, love me as much as she did—but Toska had no reason to love me, yet, she did anyway, like I was a lyric in one of her favorite songs.
She was my first friend and my best. I started to find hope that when I was free, I wouldn't be completely alone, not if Toska came to visit. I never told Alastor or Killian about her. I didn't want them to hurt her or find a way to turn her against me; Alastor had a knack for breaking everything I loved.
One night, I had found her after a late-night class locked in the bathroom. I'd waited, doing homework at my desk, but when an hour had passed, I'd knocked and knocked until I heard her sniffles.
It took a great amount of coaxing for her to open the door, and when I'd seen her red-rimmed eyes and blotted cheeks, I crouched and hugged her as tightly as I could. She had sobbed into my shoulder for twenty minutes, and I'd held her tighter with each minute that passed.
